


Closing Walls (And Ticking Clocks)

by rusting_roses



Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-21
Updated: 2011-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusting_roses/pseuds/rusting_roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of ten vignettes from the Turn Back the Pendulum Arc of Bleach</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closing Walls (And Ticking Clocks)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laughing_Phoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laughing_Phoenix/gifts).



> For [](http://phoenix-laugh.livejournal.com/profile)[**phoenix_laugh**](http://phoenix-laugh.livejournal.com/), who in addition to being one of the only people capable of untangling the knots in my thought process, is also my beta, my fellow baker, and one of my dearest friends. You are amazing, my dear, and patient and kind and occasionally psychic- and yes, you really are THAT awesome...SO MANY HAPPY RETURNS ON THIS YOUR BIRTHDAY!! (Hush, I know I'm two days belated, but we'll make it work) ♥

1\. Everyone knew that Yamamoto, as head of the Gotei 13 would always be one of those who judged anyone who wished to cross from the realm of lieutenant or seated officer into that of Captain. It was his right, as creator of the Shino Academy, to decide who was worthy and capable of behaving as he thought a Captain should. There was no one who would contest that fact.</p>

Yamamoto, however, also chose two other Captains to judge with him. This was more of a concession to the rest of the Captains than anything else; rarely were Yamamoto's decisions called into question. After all, he was supposed to be the wisest and the strongest (even if, amongst those both in the rank of Captain and lower, there was doubt whether this was always the case).

Since there was always at least one judging Captain whose greatest strengths were the petitioning Captain's greatest weakness, the first of the two Captains Yamamoto chose to accompany him were those Captains who were best suited to push the potential Captains to their limits. There was no weapon that did not have a critical point of failure or that would not shatter when pressure was applied unless the one wielding it was eminently capable and able to compensate for it. It was no different when the weapon being used as a zanpakutou. Therefore it was Yamamoto's job, and the job of the Captains he'd chosen to accompany him, to test that weakness that until the potential Captain was stripped of his defenses, was driven to the brink and beyond, was forced to face the fact that they are not all-powerful.

This was all true—except that it was not _entirely_ true.

Oh, Yamamoto chose the person whom he thought would best test the potential newcomer, that part had never been called into question. Nor had the fact that the would-be Captains were shown not a stitch of mercy during the test itself. However, he only chose _one_ person to conduct the trials at his side.

The other was _always_ Unohana Retsu.

Unohana Retsu was the longest-standing Captain in the entire Gotei 13, the one woman to whom even Ukitake and Kyouraku referred to as senpai with nothing but the greatest of respect. She was a healer, first and foremost, of bodies, of minds, of souls—she was a woman of compassion, of intelligence, of sweetness and, perhaps most importantly, of immense power.

With the exception of the role of Kenpachi, however, where captainship was more about power and very much less about subtlety, she, like every other Captain had mastered—perfected—the release of their zanpakutou known as bankai. It was part of what defined a Captain, that innate understanding and ability to use their zanpakutou, and with it came at least the partial comprehension of one's self.

Her bankai, much like her shikai, however, was not of typical use on the battlefield like her colleagues Kyoraku or Shinji's would be. There were those who considered her shikai of no use it all, really—at least, until they were actually injured. Then they could feel Unohana's power pouring through their veins, giving, giving, giving until they thought that they might combust and yet stopping just short, pains muting and shifting and disappearing, slowly but surely. There was no one who could match Unohana's knowledge of healing, no one who could match her understanding of the body.

Or of the mind.

It was because of this trait that Unohana was always present for the examination of a potential Captain.

At the end, when the dust had settled—literally or proverbially—Unohana was there, with a soft smile and a softer touch to heal the wounds of the mind and the body, at least as much as she could without forcing the healing and causing more damage. Then, quietly, subtly, before anyone ever realized it, Unohana would release her bankai.

It was not large or noticeable, but Unohana was fine with that—she had no need for unnecessary flair, and her bankai served its purpose.

For her bankai was the ability to completely understand another being.

She might not know the details of the events that caused a certain person to behave in certain ways any more than she was able to perfectly interpret what she saw. Understanding has always been more of an art than a science, with a large amount of fluidity. From it, however, Unohana could usually predict whether the stresses of Captain-hood would break the one who was so eager to don the mantle, whether that person carried in them the power that had the potential to go dark, whether the potential Captain truly understood what task he or she was about to take on. That wasn't to say that having darkness or having some weaknesses completely precluded that individual from being a Captain. It was simply another factor to consider, one that would weigh heavily on whether that person was permitted to join the elite ranks.

Unohana, though imperfect, rarely made mistakes in her final judgment, however. After all, before making her decision, she examined all she had gathered about that individual from every angle, critically thought about her own assumptions, constantly wondering whether she was making some sort of oversight. It was this highly analytical mind, along with her healing ability and compassion that made her bankai so dangerous.

Those mistakes she _did_ make, however, weighed upon her mind heavily. After all, she had not seen that spark of darkness in Urahara that had driven him to Hollow research any more than she had seen how closely Yoruichi was entwined in the affairs.

So it was with a grieving mind that Unohana continued her life. She had to; there were new Captains to be found, the Gotei 13 and the Soul Society as a whole to support, people she needed to heal. Life, as she knew well, went on even when tragedy struck.

So it was with a heavy heart to match her heavy mind that she went on her way to meet Yamamoto-sama and Kyoraku-taichou.

They had Aizen Sosuke to test.

~*~

2\. What they didn't bother telling those who were offered a position on Zero Squad was that it was not a negotiation. One could not truly decline the offer—it was less a demand than it was an assumption, as though there was no other thought required than the rote acceptance of the new command and the duties that accompanied it. Those who revealed the news treated it as such, eager to bustle those they'd chosen off to some mysterious location, to do mysterious things, with mysterious people as soon as possible. They behaved as though just being in the Seireitei was toxic, slime on their elegantly and beautifully designed clothing.

Hikifune Kirio accepted her new life with something less than grace.

She knew she had to go, on a logical level. She was accepting of it; she couldn't be Hikifune-taichou forever, though she dearly wished it. She had no doubt that she could happily spend her days like this, with bloody missions and peaceful evenings filling her days, though she would never forget the too-still bodies of friends and family alike. For them she lit candles in memory, that they might live on happily somewhere else somehow else, because she had never been able to give up that belief.

She wondered if she'd ever see them again in the Seireitei, any of them, really, but Hiyori in particular. Hiyori was her right arm and her daughter, the edge of her sword and her conscience. A life without her would be a half-life filled with phantoms laughs and quiet chidings that she'd never get to say.

What she was most upset about, though, was that she would never see Hiyori grow and change. She would never see the softness she had only glimpsed now and again mature and turn Hiyori into the powerful individual she knew was there, struggling to get out. She would never see Hiyori as an equal in her own right or being referred to as Hiyori-taichou by others.

She would never get the chance to see Hiyori smile without shadows.

Hikifune Kirio accepted her new life with something less than grace.

Hikifune Kirio accepted it with regrets.

~*~

3\. No one ever came to the Detention Unit in quite the same fashion. Some had come bound, gagged, eyes filled with disgusted fury and ready to tear the roof off the facility and spent every moment plotting their escape. Others seemed to almost drift in of their own volition, eyes terribly blank. Still others didn't seem to understand that they were there until they died, and they pleaded and bargained, all but selling their souls in an effort to get out. Even those who came in mostly quietly had the seeds of madness lurking in their eyes.

It was a bleak place, the Maggot's Nest.

The nickname was something passed down from Commander to Commander of the desolate jail, until sometime, somewhere, someone let it slip to a fellow member of the 2nd; from there, the nickname only seemed natural. After all, these were the men and women with the potential to eat away at the flesh of the Soul Society, to poison everyone with their ways until even the most loyal were just rotting meat.

They were dangerous, those maggots.

However, while the nickname may have slipped out somewhere along the way, the reasoning for it never did. Those who passed around their own theories with sake in hand and a conspiratorial whisper in their voice might have come close, but never quite hit the nail on the head.

Before Urahara took command of the Maggot's Nest, however, Kato Daiki, the current Commander had taken him to his quarters for a quiet chat after his shift. "I'm only going to say this once," he'd growled without ever meeting Urahara's eyes. He looked harried and exhausted, and the cold part of Urahara knew that he was worn down, no longer able to control the prisoners as he used to. He needed to be replaced, and Yoruichi knew that Urahara could handle the job. "We call it the Maggot's Nest because they're as dangerous as they are useful. Maggots can be used to clean wounds you know, to clear away dead flesh from burns before the whole body dies from the infection it spreads. Maggots can be useful creatures, as disgusting as they are. They just can't be allowed to chose their own path, can't be allowed to run wild or they'll eat us all alive. So use them, the way they're meant to be used—if you must, and only if you must. Never forget that there's a reason they're here."

"Use them," Urahara considered softly.

"Use them _well_ ," Kato stressed, and poured himself a large glass of whisky, the smell of it pervading the room. Only when he'd finished all he'd poured for himself in one long, deep gulp did he meet Urahara's eyes. "And get out of there as soon as you can, before you turn into a maggot too. Now leave."

Urahara, bowing, did just that.

~*~

4\. There are a lot of things that made Ichimaru Gin a formidable enemy.

His reiatsu was high; there was no one who could graduate from the Shino Academy in a single year unless they had an enormous amount of power and the knowledge of how to use it. He was intelligent, too, quick as a snake and just as cunning. Not to mention the fact that he was a master manipulator as well, using the fact that he was not well-liked to his advantage; using that knowledge as armor, as a cloaked knife, as another way hide himself in plain sight.

What made him deadly, however, were two things in particular: his patience and his implacability.

Gin had known from the moment he'd put together that Aizen Sosuke had, indirectly or not, hurt Matsumoto, that he was a dangerous man. This was not an enemy to be rushed or attacked under the cover of night, because Gin would be killed like a stuck pig, squealing his defiance as though that would not drive Aizen to anything but the desire to kill him faster. It would be remorseless and painful, and would accomplish less than nothing.

As he memorized Aizen's face, Gin realized he would need to slip beneath Aizen's shields, would need to worm his way into Aizen's company and become a rot that would take hold of the roots and never let go, felling the tree before it ever knew it was in danger. He would need to grow in power, too, would need to be stronger, faster, more skilled, more clever, more so than Aizen himself in order to one day put his skills to killing the man who had dared to touch the only thing that Gin had ever cared about.

So Gin would be patient.

He would be patient when people were frightened of his power and his drive. He would be patient when they stabbed him in the back. He would be patient when people looked at him as though he was less than worthy of his position as a fully-fledged shinigami. He would wait, _could_ wait, the scorpion hidden beneath the sheets, uncaring of what these shinigami would say; as though they could understand what he was doing or why. They were the shameful ones, the worthless and the weak.

Gin would be implacable, too.

He would be implacable in his drive for power, uncaring whether he had to steal knowledge where he could not lawfully gain it. So long as he had it in the end, there was no such thing as too high a cost. He would be implacable in his efforts to join Aizen as there would be no allies for him, no fellow spies, who would gossip and put the game at risk. Gin would do what he must to keep Matsumoto safe, and that would require silence. He would be implacable in his dealings with death. When he was Aizen's in every way except the one that counted, he would be called upon to remove Aizen's enemies—and he would do it and do it willingly because they were pawns, while he and Matsumoto were the queen and king doing battle on the chessboard.

He would protect her, because one stroke could end her.

That night, with the blood of an innocent man on his tongue, a weaker man would have prayed that Rangiku would forgive him, would love him despite the atrocities he would commit.

Gin simply continued to love her and knew it would be enough.

~*~

5\. Shunsui recognized from the first moment that he saw her that Ise Nanao had potential. It was hard not to; she was little more than a slip of a thing, but he immediately recognized the drive in her eyes. Self-confidence and desire could compensate for a lot of sheer power, and cleverness could compensate for even more. Not that Ise would need it, of course. He was constantly surprised by just how much she'd grown simply in the last few months when she came to visit. He had no doubt that she'd be taking on seated officers within the year, especially if her talent continued to grow.

It was a pleasant surprise to encounter her outside of the 8th, face so serious and intense. It made him want to sweep her up in a hug and make her laugh simply because he thought she'd look pretty when she smiled. Shunsui knew he wasn't supposed to have favorites, but he couldn't help but admire her. He hadn't had half her interest in working when he had been her age. It reminded him a little of Juushiro, actually, and the thought alone made his heart go warm.

"Yes," Ise told him, flushing sweetly, small hands (too small, Shunsui couldn't help but think, to carry a sword properly, surely) pressing tight to the covers of the book in her arms. "And...I wanted to read with Lieutenant Yadoumaru too..."

His musings were cut off abruptly as he remembered the danger he'd sent his second in command into. It wasn't that he didn't have confidence in her skills, didn't trust her to do her job—but he worried regardless, like a fretful parent waiting for their child. "Sorry, kiddo," he told her quietly, solemnly. "Lisa-chan isn't around tonight."

"How come?" Ise asked, face open and anxious.

Shunsui was usually a man moved by kindness, and he would give Ise all the reassurance he could. "She has an important job to do." He tried not to make it into any more a condolence than it had to be. Ise would understand, Shunsui knew. He hesitated, then added, "Don't worry. She'll be back tomorrow. For sure."

Ise didn't look completely convinced, but then again, neither was Shunsui himself. He knew better than to make false promises too, but hadn't been able to help it; it was as much to remind himself of what Lisa was capable as anything else. He had to believe in her.

He absolutely had to.

Ise turned to go then, and the slump of her shoulders made Shunsui pause. "Though," he said aloud, knowing it would be enough to get her attention. Ise turned back to him, head tilted curiously, book still being hugged against her chest. He peered at the cover, and then added, "You know, shinigami history isn't my strong suit, I'm afraid. I should probably brush up on it—I can't be a proper Captain without it, can I?"

It was a rhetorical question, as Ise well knew. Shunsui was pleased at how quickly she picked up his meaning; she was already well versed in the non-statements and subtle hints and sly winks that occasionally governed the Gotei 13, as much by necessity as by choice. Some things were better left unsaid, if for no other reason than plausible deniability.

"Then you should read with me," Ise told him straightforwardly. She didn't even flinch as she spoke the words, meeting his eyes evenly. "We're on chapter fourteen." Her voice was just a touch dry, and Shunsui covered a smile with a coughing fit and a well-placed sleeve. Quick as a whip, indeed.

"Well, come on!" Shunsui complained. "It's cold out here. How do you take your tea?"

Shunsui led the way to his quarters, Ise grinning happily and following at his heels.

~*~

6\. Shinji didn't go to see the new Captain of the 12th out of any true interest in the man now running it. Not that he had anything against Urahara—Yoruichi wouldn't have recommended him, and Yamamoto and the other Captains that had tested him wouldn't have permitted him to fill the position if they hadn't all be absolutely sure that Urahara was capable of the role. Shinji was even reasonably sure that, given time, he might come to like the man. There was something about his reticence and easy-going personality that seemed fit well with the steel beneath. So it wasn't because of Urahara himself that Shinji took it upon himself to seek the man out.

It was because of Hiyori.

Whatever they had between them these days, it was complicated. Shinji was content enough to let her set the pace, however, and if nothing happened, then nothing happened. He wasn't one to force the situation, especially not when it would most likely just drive her further away. He could afford to be patient now and for a long time, to be her ally and friend first.

That didn't change the fact, however, that he would protect her with his last breath.

News traveled fast in a place like the Gotei 13, and bad news traveled faster; within an hour of Urahara's ill-fated venture, the entire Seireitei probably knew that Urahara's first encounter with his division—in particular, his lieutenant—had not gone even half as smoothly as one could have hoped.

Shinji gave matters the rest of the day to cool down. It wouldn't hurt anything, Shinji was sure. Feelings were rising high, and meddler as he was, he knew that the only way to get someone to actually listen to you was to ensure that they didn't discount your information before you even got the chance to open your mouth and dispense it. He wanted to see Urahara, though, wanted to set the record straight as soon as he could and make sure that Urahara didn't slip at the wrong moment and cost Hiyori—or himself, for that matter, though that was definitely Shinji's secondary concern—something precious at the wrong moment.

After all, since Urahara couldn't be a parent as Kirio had been to her, then he should at least be Hiyori's friend.

~*~

7\. Urahara knew how to make contingency plans.

He knew how to make good contingency plans, too, strong ones that compensated for weaknesses in his work. Then, just for thoroughness, he had contingency plans for his contingency plans, should all else fail. His was a mind of twists and turns, of lies and deceit except for when it suited him; his time with the 2nd taught him that—Yoruichi taught him that.

She taught him not to see in straight lines, and she taught it with a dangerous glint in her eyes, because as she'd said in private to him once, when the shadows painted her skin in darkness and dreamy indistinctness, "It's worthless to train you to see only one answer instead of seeing ten. We can't be rigid, can't go by the rules all the time. If I don't make you look for even the impossible options, one day you and your team will die."

The, " _And it will be all my fault_ ," was implied, but never spoken.

Urahara never planned to let Kurotsuchi Mayuri keep the Technological Development Institute.

He used it as a bargaining chip, as a tool, a carrot—and sometimes a stick—to egg Kurotsuchi on, to make him drive himself to the edge and past it in his research. He kept it subtle, of course, but it was there, and it was deliberate. Urahara didn't know or care whether Kurotsuchi knew of Urahara's meddling, of the way he'd coax him away from one set of research topics and into another, into research that Urahara could use in his own work.

One of his contingency plans had Hiyori taking command when he died; he was working with her even now, making her stronger, smarter, faster, and more capable with her reiatsu so she could take Kurotsuchi on and win. Another had Yoruichi sticking the insidious maggot back where he belonged, caged, before the not-exactly-legal plans that Urahara was very carefully turning a blind eye too became a full-blown danger to someone or something that caught Kurotsuchi's attention. Should something happen that removing Kurotsuchi entirely wasn't an option, he also had a carefully written set of notes of exactly what Kurotsuchi had done already, enough, probably, to throw extreme doubt on his ability to lead the Technical Development Insitute.

Urahara never stopped thinking about ways to keep Kurotsuchi as bound as when he'd been chained to the wall of his cell.

Urahara knew that full control would be dangerous in Kurotsuchi's hands, too dangerous to allow it to happen. So he used him, milked him for all he was worth to keep the Gotei 13 and the whole Soul Society safe. Urahara never let him be anything more than a dangerous weapon in capable hands, no better or worse than a zanpakutou.

 _Of course_ , Urahara thought in a distant sort of way as he ran for his life and hoped that the unleashed inner Hollows of his colleagues and friends would not eat them from the inside out and leave them shells, _it seems you can't plan for everything_.

The laugh that burbled up almost concealed the sound of his world collapsing.

~*~

8\. Fear is the one emotion that can spread like illness. Anger can be catching, that is true, but at the base of an anger that spreads is always a deep-seated terror. Fear has a million causes and then some, some more pervasive than others, but all of them powerful, all of them dangerous even if for no other reason than that fear causes people to do incredibly stupid things.

That was a large part of the reason that there was such a race in order to figure out why the bodies of the members of the Rukongai and the Seireitei were disappearing. Everyone was panicking, on some level or another, because anything that could make a body essentially _disappear without a trace_ , even a body from the Rukongai, had to be something hugely dangerous. Then it started attacking shinigami, and the fact that the very people who were supposed to be able to defend both the Soul Society and the world at large didn't even know where to begin setting up their defenses only amplified the issue.

People stopped leaving their homes, stopped speaking with strangers they met on the street—and the shinigami, which were already viewed as something faintly dangerous thanks to their work, were starting to be gazed at with outright suspicion as people started wondering if they might be the cause.

The shinigami, even within the walls of their own barracks, tried not to discuss the fact that the Seireitei was falling apart at the seams as things grew worse, as patrols became bloodier and more dangerous, as the number of deaths increased. It was there, though, a constant undercurrent to their thoughts, poisoning them against one another and creating nightmares fuelled by the worst of the rumors, which had a way of burrowing under the skin.

When the attacks stopped with Urahara, Yoruichi and Tsukabishi's disappearance, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Even if they didn't want to believe it, even if they were more than positive that they were not the ones responsible—well, at least there were no more deaths. They didn't have to think the propaganda about their betrayal of the Gotei 13's ideals was true to be thankful that the ones responsible had stopped at least temporarily.

There were only a few—Kyoraku, Ukitake, Kuchiki, and a small, select group of others that cursed the one really responsible and the Central 46 for brutally silencing any peep of opposition, for they knew, as others seemed not to, that this could only be one thing.

The calm before the storm.

~*~

9\. Hiyori had no interest in the Technological Development Institute.

In fact, when the newly-instated Captain Urahara had started it, Hiyori had made every plan to put her foot down and refuse to be involved. She didn't care if he asked for another lieutenant; she had better things to do than spend her days babysitting the disgusting Kurotsuchi—and make no mistake he _was_ disgusting. Sometimes, in Urahara's presence, he almost managed to seem normal, or at the very least, creepy but non-threatening. The way he watched her though, as if she was yet another one of his experiments made her skin crawl and her hair stand on end.

Yet somehow, every time she went to put her foot down, Kisuke managed to make her stick around for that much longer, coaxing and wheedling by turns, tricking her occasionally even to get her to work some more. Damn him.

To be fair, it wasn't all bad. She only worked directly with Kurotsuchi once or twice a week; the rest was spent doing paperwork or training the 12th or working with her own zanpakutou, or even working with Kisuke in the TDI.

At first it was all washing glassware and signing off on order forms and occasionally standing as protector, armed with shielding kido that would prevent someone from getting blown up. Then it was, "Hiyori, can you get me some N,N-dimethylamide?" or, "Hiyori, just run this assay, it's really simple, here, I'll show you," or even, "Does this reaction look right? I can't seem to find where the missing hydrogen went."

It was the world's most haphazard scientific training, of that Hiyori was sure.

Despite her protests, she always went, though grudgingly, because this world of too many tests and occasional explosions was starting to seem normal. While she did it, she ended up feeling like she was of some use, when for a long time she didn't even see the point; Kisuke came to rely on her ability to spot a miscalculated value from twenty paces, and even Kurotsuchi stopped looks at her like a particularly intelligent dog (well, most of the time, at least, and Hiyori knew she could take him, so that was alright). Slowly she came to understand why she was doing what she was doing, rather than just doing what she was told: the reactions of lab animals meant something to her, and she was even occasionally able to get properly excited about the results of their work—though she still had to put up a front for show, just in case. There was no point in Kisuke getting to thinking she was too much of a pushover. Their work was important, sure, but it wasn't the only thing she liked doing and if he thought that he could tie her to the TDI, she'd find a way to take out his kneecaps.

That being said... _their_ work. It sounded nice.

It was nice to be useful like this, to think back to the days when she was struggling to figure out what the hell the little numbers on the bottle meant, and laugh at herself a little, to realize just how far she'd come. It was interesting enough, bouncing from project to project and getting to boss people around. Occasionally, she even had the opportunity to blow stuff up on purpose rather than just protecting people from stuff that blew up by accident, and then there was that one experiment with molten metal, so that was all okay too.

Working in the TDI grew on her, despite her best efforts.

She found, though, that it was worth it when one day, as she and Kisuke were leaving the TDI, he clapped her on the shoulder and told her earnestly, "I shake to think what kind of terror you'd be if you'd started on this sort of thing earlier. I'd certainly be out of a job."

Hiyori kneed him for that, and instantly regretted it when it felt like she'd just slammed her shin against a metal plate. So she cursed him out just because she could.

Still, it was a nice sentiment.

~*~

10\. Shunsui knew that, whatever else, Urahara was planning to try and help Hiyori. In that, at least, Urahara had made the transition to true Captain—the loyalty of the 12th to him was exceeded only by his own loyalty to the 12th, which was as it should be. Hiyori had effectively become his other half in all things, his friend and confidante, and Urahara's worry bled into the air around him. None of the other Captains wished to look at him; they had all been there at one time or another, forced to trust that the members of their division were smart enough, fast enough, strong enough.

In that, at least, Shunsui could lend aid.

It was two birds with one stone; he had long desired for his Lisa to have the opportunity to test her skills. It may have been seen cruel in another person's eyes, to volunteer his lieutenant like that, but Shunsui knew better than most that there came a time when it was no longer possible to defend your subordinates from harm. Lisa had the potential to reach Captain status, if not beyond, but it was wasted potential if she did nothing but sit behind a desk all day. Hers was a brave soul, meant to defend, meant to protect, meant to find clever ways to undermine the enemy. She was capable of making hard decisions too, if it came to it. Shusui trusted her completely.

That was the easy part.

The second part—that was the true test, pulling the wool over Yama-jii's eyes (or rather, having Yama-jii allow the wool to be pulled over his eyes, because the Captain of the 1st Division was too clever by half and probably knew exactly what he was planning) just long enough to let Urahara figure out what Shunsui had done by freeing up Tsukabishi from needing to go directly. It wasn't public knowledge that Tsukabishi and Urahara were, if not friends, then acquaintances thanks to the Shihoin household, but Shunsui found that his carefree and lackadaisical behavior opened mouths that would have otherwise never spoken, never mind the fact that if he was truly that stupid he'd never have gotten to be Captain.

Either way, it didn't matter—he'd given Urahara the chance, and it was up to him to as to whether he took advantage of it or not.

Shunsui, on the other hand, would have to fall back on the very advice he'd given Urahara.

To wait and have faith.


End file.
